


Angels Don't Roam Earth

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Series: SPN Lucifer Bingo 2019 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom!Sam, D/s elements, Dom!Nick, FBI!Sam, Family Secrets, Incest, Knife Play, M/M, Serial Killer!Lucifer, Serial Killer!Nick, Serial Killers, Sibling Incest, Sub!Sam, Twincest, dom!Lucifer, sex swings, top!Lucifer, top!Nick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Serial Killers Lucifer and Nick Ubrimowitz have the help of FBI Agent Sam Winchester, who hides where they are and where they are going from his boss, Michael Milton.





	Angels Don't Roam Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuxInvictus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxInvictus/gifts).



> Crossposted on tumblr
> 
> Written for the Serial Killers AU Square on my SPN Lucifer Bingo
> 
> Sponsored by the lovely and wonderful @coffee-queen448

“Do you think he’s ready?” Nick Ubrimowitz asked his twin brother as they stared at their man for the night. Tied up in simple, intricate knots, bleeding sluggishly from wounds they created. He had long since stopped crying, stopped begging for them to stop. It had been over an hour since his last plea. He was starting to get boring, and Nick hoped that his brother thought so too. 

“I think so,” Lucifer replied, flipping his blood drenched knife over and over again in his hand. Blood splattered on the floor and on the thick, black leather glove that they wore to keep their fingerprints a secret. They knew that while DNA wouldn’t be able to tell them apart, their fingerprints will. “He’s no fun anymore. I hate it when they’re quiet and just suffer in silence.” 

“Agreed,” Nick hummed, getting up and walking over to where his twin was. He pressed up against his side and batted his lashes up at him. “Is it my turn?”

Lucifer smirked and turned to wrap his arms around Nick’s waist and kissed him softly. “Yes, love,” he said, “It’s your turn. We should be quick, though. It won’t be long before law enforcement finds this place, and dawn’s about to come.” He kissed the top of Nick’s head tenderly, like one would do for a lover. These were not brother-appropriate kisses. They knew that. They didn’t care. 

“Don’t forget to do the note,” Nick purred as he nipped his brother’s lip playfully, an impish delight sparkling in his eyes. 

“Cheeky  _ brat, _ ” Lucifer laughed, smacking Nick’s ass. “Go on. Shoo. I’ll write the note for the Fibbies.” 

Nick grinned and slipped out of Lucifer’s hold. “Yes, big brother,” he said. He took his own knife out of the sheath on his hip and held it firmly in the palm of his hand while he stalked towards his prey. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucifer with a pad of paper and a pen, writing. “Don’t you care to watch?” he teased lovingly as he moved behind their victim. 

“I will,” Lucifer said, looking up from the pad of paper he was using and smiling kindly. 

“You better,” Nick smirked. “This is a show all for you, after all.” 

Lucifer laughed and nodded. “Fair enough, baby brother. I’ll watch you.” 

Nick grinned wolfishly as he grabbed the man’s hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. “Any last words?” he asked in a low, sultry coo. 

“Fuck you,” the man breathed, the sound labored and laced with pain. The sweetest sound to the Ubrimowitz twins’ ears, beyond the cries of coital pleasure. “Rot in Hell.” 

“Kind of hard to rot in Hell when you rule it with an iron fist,” Nick said almost entirely too cheerfully. With a quick slash from ear to ear, he committed the kill before stabbing the blade into the man, just under the sternum. He twisted it before yanking it out, making a pleased sound at the wound from the serrated edges of his knife.  

“Beautiful,” Lucifer applauded, returning to his note as Nick walked back over to his brother. “Now, let’s hurry. We don’t want to be caught just yet.” He ripped the note from the pad and handed it to his twin. 

Nick read over the note and nodded, looking at his partner in crime as he laid it on the deceased man’s shirt. The yellow paper soaked up the blood. “Back to the motel?” 

“Too risky,” Lucifer said. “We’ve left nothing there. To the RV. Let’s get this show on the road. We’ve got a lot of miles to cover.” 

“Where are we going?” Nick asked as they sheathed their knives and began making their way to their RV, parked in a secluded spot underneath the bridge. Modified for them and them alone. 

“We’re going to Quantico. We have a very special person to pay a visit to, don’t we?” 

Nick laughed, the sound echoing off the concrete as he waited for Lucifer to open the RV. He took a look back at the murder they just committed and grinned. 

“Yes, we do, don’t we? We should definitely get going, then. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the only fed we  _ want  _ to catch us, would we?” 

“Never in a million years,” Lucifer agreed. “Come on. Into the RV.” He opened the door. “I’ll drive. There should be enough water in the tank for you to take a shower.” 

“Can we grab some breakfast? I’m starving,” Nick announced as he got into the RV and started heading towards the shower. 

“Breakfast can definitely happen at a rest stop,” Lucifer agreed. “After we both shower. No need to scare those we don’t plan to kill with us covered in blood.” He discarded his gloves into a hamper near the door and unlaced his waterproof combat boots. Slipping into sneakers and a fresh shirt nearby, advertising the tour dates for Pink Floyd, he slipped into the driver’s seat, watching Nick get undressed in the rearview mirror. Smirking as he watched Nick bend over, he started the RV and began driving towards Quantico, Virginia. The sign they passed on the freeway proclaimed  _ Wyoming Welcomes You! _

They had a long drive ahead of them. 

  
  


“WHERE ARE THEY?” Michael Shurely shouted at his top FBI agent that specialized in serial crimes. The dark, shaggy hair of Supervisory Special Agent Sam Winchester was all that the FBI assistant director could see as the younger agent poured over the note that was left at the latest crime scene. Around them on boards were photos of at least fifteen kills that the Ubrimowitz twins had committed, crime scene photos that would strike fear into the hearts of even the most hardened FBI agent. In a corner on one of the boards, there were the photos of Nicholas and Lucifer Ubrimowitz. For Nicholas, they had used a photo of him from his college yearbook. For Lucifer, they had a mugshot from when he was picked up for aggravated assault and resisting arrest at the young age of nineteen. Michael had the feeling that they had been killing for longer than they had suspected. They couldn’t tell the twins apart in the kills. Heavens, it took them  _ twelve  _ out of now sixteen kills before the possibility of identical twins hit their brains and they realized that that was what was going on. 

“Do you think I’m some sort of long distance mind reader, Michael?” Sam asked idly as he looked over the photo of the note that was left on the latest victim. “I haven’t been right yet, have I?” 

Michael exhaled. “I’m sorry, I’m just under a lot of pressure to solve this,” he said. 

“So am I, and I want these men caught,” Sam said, looking up at Michael in earnest. “But until I crack the code of how they arrange these notes, what they mean… we’re going to be floundering.” 

“Read it out loud to me,” Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sam looked down at the note and began to read it aloud. 

_ Through many rocks and trees and creatures, a figurehead of nationwide pride emerged _

_ Stolen from the people who lived here long before us, see me in the blaze _

_ The clock has now began to count down, better make your haste _

_ The sword may come down on us, but not ‘til we deem it ready _

_ Will that be this time? Who knows, only we do. _

Michael frowned. “California?” he said. “They’re often on fire. That’s what they could mean by the blaze. And that land is technically stolen land.” 

“If we want to be technical,” Sam said dryly, “All of America is stolen land. But the figure of nationwide pride… I feel like that’s like a rock formation or something. Something that happened on stolen Native land.” 

Michael nodded in agreement. “But what about the blaze part?” 

“Blaze has another meaning. It could mean something white,” Sam said. “Maybe they mean… Mount Rushmore?” 

“South Dakota?” Michael mused over the idea. “There’s a lot of stolen land there, the Native Americans would love for Mount Rushmore to be eradicated.”

“Exactly,” Sam said, sounding excited. “And Mount Rushmore is white. ‘See me in the blaze’. It works.” 

“The national park surrounding Mount Rushmore would be the ideal location to hide a body and to commit an atrocity,” Michael said. “And the sword… it obviously refers to me.” 

Sam nodded. “Would you like for me to come with you, Sir?” he asked. “You haven’t been in the field for years.” 

Michael shook his head with a smile. “No, I want you here in Quantico,” he said. “Just in case something else involving the twins pops up. I’m just glad that none of this has leaked to the media.” 

“I’ll check the HSKD and see if there’s any more similar murders within the past several years,” Sam volunteered.

“Perfect,” Michael said with a smile. “Alert the Sioux Falls Field Office. I’m heading out on the jet in twenty.” 

“Very good, Sir,” Sam said. “I’d still feel more comfortable if you had an SSA with you. Might I suggest SSA Brady?” 

“Perfect, Winchester. I knew I could count on you.” Michael nodded. “I’ll call with any updates.” 

Sam nodded and ducked his head back down to continue working on his current report, hiding a smile. 

_ Perfect. He never suspected it.  _

He couldn’t wait for the call to appear on his cell. 

 

It’s not that Sam  _ planned  _ on being in cahoots with two of the most dangerous serial killers currently active in the United States of America, especially while he was held in high esteem at the FBI as an SSA who could quickly decode almost any serial criminal. It’s not like Sam  _ planned  _ on being in said serial killers’ bed and fucking them on a… fairly regular basis, considering that they moved around constantly along state lines. It just…  _ happened. _

And it was all thanks to the fact that Lucifer and Nicholas Ubrimowitz had made him their mark one night. Had kidnapped him, an FBI agent, and took him to a rundown area of DC, where abandoned buildings laid in ruins and crime was so rampant that between the hours of 9 PM and 9 AM police officers dared not venture there without at minimum a SWAT team. Had tied him to a chair tight enough that Sam would be covered in rope burn marks for several weeks, grinning identical maniacal grins as they waved blades in Sam’s face- one serrated, one smooth. At that time, Sam had no clue which twin was which. Now, he knew that the one wielding the serrated knife was Nick and the smooth one Lucifer. His legs were spread, his arms were bound, the only thing that Sam could move was his neck and head. Maybe his fingers and toes, but that was the extent of it. To his alarm (at the time), he had become aroused. 

They told him that they were going to torture him, then kill him. Sam was seriously considering how to get out of the intricate knots that he had now been in several times before when the first cut from Lucifer’s knife came. A simple cut just under his elbow on his forearm, and he let out a pleasured cry, his head thrown back. They paused, as if not expecting that response. Sam now knew that they wouldn’t have expected it from anyone except themselves. Nick repeated it on the other side and this time Sam had moaned, his body shivering. His cock throbbed in his slacks. 

That was how the night of the wildest sex Sam had ever had in his life occurred, with them cutting him while one twin sucked him off or the other one rode him, with him bound helplessly and unable to help but ride the waves of pleasure that the murderous duo was bestowing upon him in spades. He couldn’t believe it at the time, but now he could, that he could enjoy that, and beg for more, even. 

When they were finished, the twins had debated on murdering him anyways. Sam couldn’t let that happen. He was now addicted, addicted to blood and pain and sex that was so good he highly doubted he’d be able to walk anywhere, much less sit down and work passively. He informed them that he was FBI and specialized in serial crimes. He said that he could keep the FBI off their trail… in exchange for the sex. The twins talked it over while Sam waited with bated breath, the October chill that had fallen around D.C. swirling around his wounds and making them ache even more and him shiver. They checked his credentials and agreed. They stole his money and credit cards to make it look like a mugging and dropped him in a slightly better part of DC, near Gallaudet University. Sam didn’t make it very far after that, barely able to sign to a university student that has asked him if he was okay that he needed to go to the hospital before collapsing. He reported it as faceless muggers and sent the DC police on a manhunt. 

Two weeks later, the Ubrimowitz file crossed his desk. At the time, they were still thinking it was a single killer. Sam read through the file and knew instantly from the crime scene photos that were in the confidential folder that this was the work of the twins. He kept quiet, worked the case, and sent the FBI on a wild goose chase. 

As long as the Ubrimowitz twins kept killing, Sam could keep the depraved sex that he now craved. And that was good enough for him. 

  
  


It was two days later that Sam received the text on his cell. He was working late in the bullpen, no one else around to annoy him as he worked on a report for an entirely unrelated case. His personal phone vibrated quietly and he checked it, glad for the momentary distraction. 

_ From: Unknown Number.  We’re at your place. We did a little B&E to get in but thanks for leaving the window unlocked for us. We’d hate to have to mimic another burglary. When are you coming home?  _

Sam chuckled, arousal now prickling at his veins as he sent a text back. 

_ From: Sam.  I really wish you would stop breaking in. I get why you do, but it makes me feel even more like a criminal. I’ll be home soon.  _

_ From: Unknown Number.   Well, hurry up. We’ve got everything set up and Nick’s about ready to spontaneously combust. _

Sam laughed softly at reading that message before sending another one. 

_ From: Sam.   Alright, alright. I’m on my way. Give me an hour at most.  _

_ From: Unknown Number.   You know we hate being kept waiting.  _

_ From: Sam.    No murder.  _

Sam hurried and finished his report, submitting it before grabbing everything and heading out to his car, hoping that the traffic wouldn’t be too bad. Luckily, it wasn’t, and Sam is certain he broke several traffic laws as he sped back to his apartment, ready for a night of fun and games with the only two people who could understand his need, for they were the ones who discovered it. 

He hurried out of the car after he pulled in and headed into the apartment complex. He greeted the front desk receptionist before taking the elevator. Once alone there, he calmed himself and tilted his head back to breath. It had been too long, far too long, since they’ve gotten to play together. Over a year. He deleted the texts, making a mental note to wipe the phone’s hard drive later, and put it in his pocket just as he reached the sixth floor. He calmly walked down the hallway to his apartment, Number 6, and opened the door to find Nick sprawled on the couch, watching a Quantum Leap rerun and Lucifer in the kitchen, stirring a pot of spaghetti and wearing a bright pink apron. On the counter next to him, three trays full of garlic bread with steam still rising from them. 

“Hey guys,” he said casually as he closed his door and locked it, kicking off his shoes. 

“You’re here in forty,” Lucifer said, impressed. “How many speeding tickets are you going to have?” 

“Hopefully, none,” Sam chuckled as he walked over and kissed Nick’s temple. “Nice work out west, by the way. I thought Michael was going to puke all over me when he saw the photos.” 

“Damn,” Lucifer said wistfully. “I wish he had.” 

Sam threw a bitchface as he walked over to the other serial killer in his home. “I’m debating on revoking your kiss.” 

“Let me rephrase,” Lucifer smirked. “I wish that pompous, self righteous, sword-up-his-ass pontificating  _ bastard  _ had puked. I  _ don’t  _ wish that he puked on you.” 

“You sure?” Sam teased as he kissed Lucifer’s temple. 

“We’re not into emetophilia,” Nick snorted from his position on the couch. “Let’s eat. I’m starving. Luci won’t let me eat the garlic bread.” 

“Not until you got home,” Lucifer corrected, kissing Sam’s cheek. “Now we can eat as a family.” 

Sam beamed. “Let’s eat. It smells wonderful, Lucifer.” 

“Thank you,” Lucifer said. “Nick, get your lazy ass up.” 

“Hey,  _ you  _ weren’t the one driving from Seneca Lake to Quantico,” Nick said as he got up. 

Sam laughed as he sat down and accepted a glass of red wine. 

Tonight was promising to be a good night. 

 

The meal that Lucifer had created was absolutely amazing. The noodles were perfect, the tomato sauce cooked to perfection, and don’t get Sam started on the garlic bread. It was  _ fantastic _ , and he swore that he could’ve cleared off an entire tray by himself. He may bring some into work, heat some up in the office, and just ignore his coworkers wondering where the hell he got so much garlic bread. It was also very filling, and Sam remarked as much as he sipped his second glass of wine. 

“Oh, you’re going to be filled, alright,” Lucifer promised, a dark gleam in his eyes. “You won’t have to do much, Sam. Don’t worry. Nicky and I’ve got you.” 

Nick nodded, finishing his third plate of spaghetti. “We do,” he agreed. “Always, Sam. We’ve always got you.” 

Sam nodded and smiled. “Thanks, guys,” he said, standing up. “So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Feel like swinging tonight, Agent Winchester?” Lucifer asked with a smirk as he also stood up. 

“That’s  _ Supervisory Special Agent Winchester _ to you, Ubrimowitz,” Sam laughed, gasping as Lucifer tugged his head back by his hair. He then felt Nick’s strong hands on his shoulders, forcing him to his knees. 

“So sassy,” Lucifer grinned. “That’s okay, we know how you are, Sam. Slutty little Sammy.” 

Sam laughed and looked up at Lucifer through long lashes, pretending to act coy. “Only for you,” he cooed. 

“That’s our boy,” Nick said, patting his shoulder. “So, the game plan tonight is you’re gonna suck Lucifer here off. Once you’re done, we’re throwing you into the swing and playing a little game involving knives and how quiet you can be. Once we’ve established that threshold, I’m going to fuck you and as soon as I’m done, Lucifer’s going to fill you back up.” He leaned down and nipped the tip of Sam’s ear. “You’re going to be so full, you’re going to be walking funny and Michael’s going to wonder why you’re limping. Think he’ll realize that you’re fucking us?” 

Sam moaned and shuddered. 

“Strip him down,” Lucifer commanded as he released the hold he had on Sam’s hair. “Let’s have him be as exposed as possible.” 

“Of course,” Nick agreed, starting to rip the suit from Sam’s body. 

“Hey, can we  _ not  _ destroy my clothes?” Sam whined as he heard the telltale rip of his suit jacket now in two pieces. “You know that I don’t get a clothing allowance through the FBI, right?” 

“You can claim the money back on your taxes,” Lucifer shrugged. “You know that, right?” 

“It’s the  _ principle  _ of the-” Sam couldn’t help the groan as Nick ripped his shirt off, buttons flying everywhere. “Nick!” 

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” the younger Ubrimowitz twin said with absolutely no shame or remorse in his voice. He undid Sam’s belt and began undoing the button and the fly. “Hurry and take these pants off before I cut them from your body,” he demanded. 

“Say ‘please’ and maybe I’ll let you anyways,” Sam snarked, grinning up at Lucifer. 

Lucifer shook his head in amusement while Nick huffed impatiently. 

“Patience is a virtue, as are manners,” Sam hummed, turning his head to look at Nick adoringly. 

“You know what else is a virtue? Your ass,” Nick said. “Pants. Off.” 

“Make me,” Sam said childishly. 

“Oh, we want to play  _ that  _ game tonight,” Nick said. “I see.” He reached into the sheath and brought out his favorite serrated blade, grinning. “Last chance, Sammy boy. Take the pants off nicely or they won’t be so nice when I’m done with them.” 

“What’s the difference? The suit’s ruined with you ripping my jacket in half, and like you’d let me take them off myself anyways,” Sam shrugged. “So come on. Cut them off, Nicky.” 

Nick grinned at his twin. “He’s learning.” 

“He’s only had two years to fully learn us,” Lucifer chuckled. 

“Yeah, and you’ve abandoned me for a year,” Sam pouted, shivering as he felt Nick’s knife slide against his hip and down the leg of his boxers and slacks. 

“We’re sorry,” Lucifer said sincerely. “We’ve been busy.” 

“So I’ve noticed,” Sam huffed, biting his lip as the edge of Nick’s knife grazed his skin. “And yet, I didn’t even get a phone call from a payphone or a text or even… I don’t know, a head in a box.” 

Nick laughed as he began working on the other side of Sam’s slacks. “We’re not reenacting that scene from Seven,” he teased. “You’re not Brad Pitt. You’re sexier than Brad Pitt. Pitt can have Angelina Jolie. You got us.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think that Angelina Jolie would tie me up, cut me all over and then fuck me with a strapon,” Sam said dryly. “Hey! Careful!” he yelped as he felt the blade actually dig into his skin a little bit. 

“I know, I know,” Nick said. “Not like you won’t be begging for the cuts later.” 

“That’s later,” Sam groaned as Nick continued making short work of his slacks. “That’s not _now._ _Now_ I have to get naked and suck Luce’s dick.” 

“Damn straight,” Lucifer purred. “Too bad all we use is disposable cells. Besides, you deserve better than a head in a box.” 

“A cock in a box?” Sam asked cheekily. 

“Oh God,” Lucifer groaned. “There’s two of them now. Maybe one time when we get together, I should hold a slut competition. See which one of you two is the bigger slut.” 

“I am!” Sam and Nick chorused in unison. 

Lucifer smirked. “Mhm. That’s what I thought.” He looked over Sam’s now naked and aroused body and gestured towards his crotch. “It’s not going to free and suck itself,” he said. “I don’t keep a face hugger in my crotch.” 

“No, you just keep a pearl necklace maker in there,” Nick laughed as Sam almost lunged forward, undoing the button and zipper on Lucifer’s jeans. He then yanked them down to his thighs, letting Lucifer’s cock smack him in the face. He grabbed the base and opened his mouth before slipping it into his mouth and letting it start to slide down his throat. 

“Fuck, he’s perfect,” Lucifer breathed, his hand returning to Sam’s hair. 

“He really is,” Nick purred. “I’m  _ very  _ glad that we didn’t kill him two years ago. Even without him keeping the feds off of our scent. He’s such a delightful toy.” 

“He really is,” Lucifer hummed, stroking Sam’s hair as he looked down, watching the federal agent suck him off. There was a definite power trip there, watching a member of federal law enforcement, one assigned to his case, suck his cock and enjoy it. Be at his literal mercy, both in the physical life or death sense and in the sexual release sense, and beg for more. 

They really should visit Quantico more often. After all, it’s the least likely place the federal agents would think to look for them. 

Nick trailed the blunt edge of his knife up Sam’s spine from ass crack to base of neck and chuckled as he watched the other man shiver and shudder. “Perfect for us.” 

“Just as fucked up as we are, just with a slightly better moral compass,” Lucifer crooned. “There we go, swallow it. Make it so you can’t breathe. I like hearing the sounds you make when I let you come back up for air and you’re coughing, tears in your eyes.” 

Sam complied, swallowing Lucifer’s cock down. He wasn’t able to breathe, not even through his nose and his hands flailed. 

“Too bad we used Flexcuffs on our last victim,” Nick sighed. “Careful, Luce, he may hit you.” 

“He wouldn’t dare,” Lucifer laughed. He let Sam’s head up and off his cock for air, watching Sam cough and sputter, his face ruddy and red from holding back tears and smirked. “That’d be quite the headline, wouldn’t it, Sam? ‘FBI Agent Murdered By Fellatio’.” 

Sam chuckled weakly through his coughing while Nick laughed. “And they wouldn’t be able to tell which one of us, would they? Not through DNA at least.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to think about the poor crime scene unit that would have to come and investigate Sam’s apartment,” Lucifer laughed. “Not with the homemade porn tapes of us, the swing, the toys, the knives… the amount of lube this man has? Can you imagine that? Not to mention the traces of semen and blood all over this place. It’d be a processing nightmare.” 

Sam and Nick laughed before Sam opened his mouth again, waiting obediently. 

“Such a perfect little cockslut,” Lucifer purred as he slipped his cock back into Sam’s mouth. “Choke on it. Make me cum.” 

Sam went right back to work before Lucifer even finished speaking, and both Ubrimowitz twins groaned at seeing Sam suck off Lucifer and hearing the sounds that was coming out of Sam’s mouth, strangled and desperate and pleasurable. 

“I love on how he gets off on this,” Lucifer told Nick. 

“I do too,” Nick agreed. “Our pet Fibbie.” 

Sam shuddered and gave Lucifer a faux innocent look. 

“Oh, you  _ minx, _ ” Lucifer groaned. “Fuck, I’m so close. Choke harder.” 

Sam did, choking and making sure that the contracting throat muscle was brushing up against the sensitive spot just under the head of Lucifer’s dick. 

Lucifer barely had time to give Sam a warning, if he even  _ had  _ a warning, before he came, choking Sam with both his throbbing cock and his hot release pouring down his throat. Sam tried to swallow it, but it was a lot, so much, and when Lucifer pulled his wet cock back, some cum came with it, dripping down the sides of Sam’s mouth like dripping paint down his chin. 

“Beautiful,” Nick said, steadying Sam as he swayed. “Easy, baby. The night’s still young and we got a long way to go.” 

“I’ll grab water,” Lucifer said. “Go get him situated in the swing.” 

Nick threw his brother a bitchface. “How do you expect me to take a cumdrunk moose to his bedroom and help him into the swing, tying him down in the best position,  _ by myself? _ ” 

Lucifer smirked. “You’re creative. Figure it out,” he said before heading into the kitchen. 

Nick huffed. “ _ Older brothers. _ ” 

“Mmmmm,” Sam hummed happily, and Nick couldn’t help but smile. 

“Come on, baby,” he said. “Let’s get you into the swing so phase two can begin.” 

Sam nodded and slowly rose to his feet, swaying. 

Nick sighed to himself as he watched and steadied Sam. 

_ My next victim may be my own twin. _

 

Nick somehow managed to get a subspaced out Sam down the hall and into his bedroom, where he had set up the swing earlier in the day with the help of his twin. Now, he began coaxing Sam in the position that he wanted and cuffing him up in that position. Luckily, Sam was just pliant limbs and he barely looked up when Lucifer entered, carrying several water bottles. 

“Let’s get some water into him,” Nick said as he finished attaching the final cuff to Sam. “Then we can begin.” 

Lucifer nodded and cracked open a water bottle. “Open up for me, Sam,” he murmured lovingly, “drink some water. You’re going to need it.” 

Sam opened his mouth and greedily started drinking the water, slowing down at Lucifer’s urgence so that he didn’t get sick from drinking too much water too fast. He smacked his lips and sank into his bonds, a bit more aware. Nick gently moved some of the sweat soaked strands of chestnut curls out of Sam’s eyes and smiled. 

“You ready, baby?” Nick asked softly.

“I think so,” Sam nodded. “It’s going to be really hard staying quiet, though.” 

“We know,” Lucifer soothed. “But we know you’re going to try your best, and that’s all we ask, isn’t it, Nick?” 

Nick nodded. “It’s just a fun little game,” he said. “Don’t worry about it too much, love.” 

Sam nodded and took a deep breath, relaxing. “Okay,” he said quietly. 

“Can we have your stop word?” Lucifer asked. 

“Clowns,” Sam murmured. “It’s clowns.” 

“Good,” Nick praised, drawing his knife again. “Soft sounds are okay, but we’ll stop once you start getting loud, okay?” 

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. “Do your worst.” 

“Or would it be our best?” Lucifer asked, withdrawing his own knife from it’s home. His cock still flopped on the outside of his jeans, already starting to get hard from the open, exposed display of Sam Winchester in a sex swing and the determined aroused gleam in his twin’s eyes. 

They started off small, with gentle cuts to the underside of Sam’s arms and along the backs of his thighs. Nick was an imp that gave each nipple a cut out box around the areola, making Sam whimper and his cock jump, spurting pre-cum. The Ubrimowitz twins filed that reaction for future consideration as they continued to make small knicks in his skin. 

Once they were bored with that, they began to move onto larger cuts, and deeper ones, going with more danger, but the twins were experts on torture. They knew which cuts would make a bloody mess (literally) but wouldn’t be lethal unless the subject in question had a blood clotting disorder. Sam had no such disorder, and his cries became prettier and just a hair louder, especially when Nick made an especially deep one from the junction where his leg met his crotch down to his knee, running along the inner thigh. Sam bit his lip once the serrated bite of the blade was removed from his skin, shuddering in pleasure. 

“I… I don’t think I can last,” he said softly. 

“With staying quiet or cumming?” Lucifer asked with a wolfish grin, giving a quick slash on his upper arm. 

Sam arched up in the swing, struggling ever so slightly and making him rock back and forth, creating a unique blood spatter pattern on the carpet. They’d clean that up later. “Yes,” he finally panted. 

“So… do you want to cum?” Nick asked wolfishly. 

Sam shook his head. “Wanna cum on a cock,” he whined. “ _ Need  _ to. It’s been so long.” 

Nick and Lucifer smirked at each other. They knew Sam was utterly faithful to them, that he wouldn’t even so as much think impure thoughts about anyone else while they had him under their thumb. One of many reasons that Sam was loved by them. 

Well, ‘loved’ in the only way that two sociopathic killers could love. It was the closest that they would get. 

“I suppose I should prep you, huh?” Nick smirked as he reached for the lube. 

“Don’t prep,” Sam breathed. “Want the burn. Plus I opened myself up a little at work today.” 

“A naughty session at work? Sammy, what if Michael caught you with your pants down, fingers up your ass, and you moaning our names under your breath?” Lucifer teased playfully. 

“Couldn’t help it,” Sam whimpered, blinking blown out hazel eyes up at his lover. “Missed you two. Needed you two.” 

“We know, baby, we came as quick as we could,” Lucifer soothed. “We’ll try not to leave you alone that long again, okay?” 

Nick nodded, stroking his cock that was now covered in lube. Like his twin, he opted to not undress, his jeans pushed just below his ass. He set down the knife and made his way over to Sam’s spread open legs while Lucifer took up a position at his head. He held the dull edge to just under Sam’s chin and the federal agent’s head fell back with a moan, exposing it. 

“You see that, Nicky?” Lucifer purred as he watched Nick slide into Sam, his gaze darkening. “What do you suppose that means?” 

“Complete and utter trust,” Nick grinned. “I don’t know why he thinks he can trust two serial killers- who nearly killed him once before, I may add.” 

“Isn’t that true,” Lucifer stated, listening to Sam softly begging for more, please, he can take it, just fuck him, please. “But he’s a bit naive. And he’s just so trusting. Believes there’s good in us.” 

“Maybe there is,” Nick chuckled, groaning as Sam clenched around him. “And he’s safe. We can’t kill him.” 

“No, we can’t,” Lucifer cooed. “We need him. And we kind of love him. Right?” 

“Right,” Nick said. “Ready, Sam.” 

“Fuck me,” Sam breathed. “Please.”

“Gladly,” Nick said almost cheerfully before beginning to pound into Sam, the swing going wild as Nick used quick, hard thrusts, being careful to not dislodge the knife his twin was holding at his throat. 

Sam didn’t last long after Nick started using him like an inanimate sex toy, and he came with a loud scream that Lucifer muffled by slapping his free hand over his mouth, discarding the knife. 

“Noisy little slut,” he growled softly. “Perhaps we should use the gag the next time we play this little game.” 

Sam whimpered and shuddered through his orgasm before falling boneless in the swing. Lucifer removed the knife and his mouth from Sam’s person and shrugged. “All yours, baby brother,” he said. 

“Perfect,” Nick growled softly, his pace and intensity increasing. “Absolutely fuckin’ perfect.” 

Lucifer chuckled and watched his twin use the FBI agent, purring at the image it created. He knew that the visual feed Sam keeps in his apartment that only he had access to (Nick helped him with it) would record this moment for posterity’s sake. 

It also served as a form of blackmail. If Sam ever turned them in, they’d have evidence that he at least had knowledge of their crimes. 

Nick came suddenly and almost violently with a loud growl, shoving Sam onto his cock. They all knew that bruises would appear on his skin for weeks afterwards and they liked that. They would have to set up a super private server rerouted through millions of proxies and in offshore accounts so that they could have Sam show them the progression of healing. This was the hardest they had played since they had picked him up as a potential victim and found a sick, depraved lover in him. 

Sam moaned as Nick filled him up, and Lucifer was at hand with another bottle of water. 

“Drink, babe,” Lucifer cooed. “We still have me to get through. Up for it, champ?” 

Sam gave a thumbs up from his hand in the cuff as he drank noisily, water spilling down his collarbone and pooling in the hollow of his throat. 

“He’s gorgeous,” Nick breathed, admiring the cuts and bruises they’ve left on Sam. He looked thoroughly debauched and the Ubrimowitz twins just stood there, Nick balls deep inside of Sam, admiring the gorgeous beauty that only torture and destruction could provide and that only sadists and masochists could appreciate. 

“Move,” Lucifer said suddenly. “Time for me to fuck him.” 

Nick moved out of the way, his cock slapping wetly against his thigh as Lucifer moved into position. Sam’s hole was warm, sloppy, and loose, just the way Lucifer liked it in order to enjoy making Sam into a slut. He gave Sam no warning that he was pushing in, nor that he was fucking him. He was off like a shot, determined to outfuck his brother. 

“Competitive bastard,” Nick snorted, knowing exactly what was going on. He watched Sam and Lucifer intently, smirking. 

Sam barely had any energy to scream or cry out in pleasure, but he sure as hell tried. Even with the bottle and a half of water that he had had, between the blow job, the cutting, and the first round with Nick, Sam’s voice was completely shot. He was going to have a fun time explaining that one to Michael in the morning, if he survived. The twins may not kill him with their usual M.O., but they may kill him with this type of sex. He gave a full bodied shudder and a soft cry as Lucifer raked over his prostate from the memory of having both twins inside of his ass, his head buried in Nick’s shoulder while Lucifer controlled the pace like the control freak he was. 

“Such a sexy little slut,” Lucifer cooed as he watched Sam’s eyes slide shut and his body shiver. He looked down and saw Sam’s cock valiantly come back to life, hard and full and leaking. One of Lucifer’s favorite things about Sam was that he leaked. It was gorgeous, watching as precum pearled at the tip and then dripped down the head and shaft as a natural lubricant. He’d have to see how many times he could make Sam cum. 

But that wasn’t for today. Today was just for fucking, as an apology of sorts for not taking care of him for a year. They had been busy, avoiding capture, but that was no excuse for neglecting the reason they’re more likely to evade capture. 

And hey, if that apology was in the form of fucking Sam unconscious, then so be it. 

Sam came, and right at that moment, so did Lucifer. Samgave a short cry, spilling all over himself again, before his eyes slid shut and his breathing turned somewhat erratic. 

“He’s unconscious,” Nick reported. “Let’s get him horizontal.” 

Quickly, Lucifer slipped out of Sam and the twins worked together to help Sam out of the swing and over to the bed, letting him sprawl. Nick quietly went into the bathroom and grabbed Sam’s first aid kit, which was fully stocked. In awed and reverent silence, they cleaned up the wounds along his body and covered them with bandages and gauze. As they worked, Sam’s breathing eased and he was soon asleep. 

“Beautiful,” Nick whispered as he cleaned the cum from Sam’s stomach and chest. “Absolutely gorgeous.” 

“He really is,” Lucifer agreed, handing Nick a plug before grabbing a washcloth. He ran it under warm water and dabbed it across Sam’s forehead to erase the sweat. 

“I wish we could stay,” Nick said quietly as he moved to put Sam’s dying phones on the chargers. 

“I do too,” Lucifer sighed. “But we can’t. Not yet.” He finished dabbing his forehead and grabbed a large blanket from the trunk at the edge of the bed and draped it over Sam. “Soon, I hope.” 

Nick nodded and went to grab the pad of paper and the pen that was always kept by Sam’s bed while Lucifer set up a couple bottles of water, Sam’s bottle of ibuprofen, and a bar of chocolate. He wrote up a note and handed it to his brother. Getting Lucifer’s approval, Nick set the pad down. They took the swing down, shampooed and vacuumed the rug free of blood, and left a shirt for Sam. They then left the way they came- through the window and down the fire escape. 

“You know what I realized?” Nick asked as they drove down the freeway.

“What?” Lucifer asked. 

“We don’t have the urge to kill as badly once we’re done with Sam,” Nick said. 

“Probably because it’s not the kill that gets us off,” Lucifer said. “That’s just an extreme forensic countermeasure. It’s the torture. And Sam willingly provides that.”

Nick nodded, merging into a lane. “Burgers?” 

Lucifer nodded. “Burgers.” 

 

Sam woke up the next morning to his body completely and delightfully sore and his work phone going off. He nearly knocked over the water bottles and grabbed his phone. “Winchester,” he said hoarsely. 

“Winchester, it’s Milton,” Michael said. “We’ve been up here for a few days. We can’t find the twins anywhere.” 

“Fuck,” Sam sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and pretending (very well) that he was very disappointed. “I thought for sure that was it. I’ll check back over the poem and see what’s going on there.” 

“Yeah. Do that tomorrow. Are you sick?” Michael sounded a little concerned. 

“Probably just a cold,” Sam dismissed. “Post nasal drip and all.” 

“Probably, but still. I’d like for you to take a sick day. You’ve been busting your ass on this case, and it’s probably taking a toll on your immune system. Rest, Winchester. That’s an order.” 

Sam smiled to himself. If only Michael knew the real reason why he sounded like this. “Thanks,” he said hoarsely. 

“Don’t mention it,” Michael said. “I’ll debrief you when I get back tomorrow.” He then hung up. 

Sam set his phone down and grabbed a bottle of water, chugging it. He tossed the empty bottle away and picked up the bottle of pills. He fumbled with opening it a little but managed to do so without help. He shook a few into his hand- six at minimum- and swallowed them dry. He then picked up the pad of paper and smiled at the writing on it. 

 

_ Sam- _

_ You were absolutely breathtaking last night. We can’t believe how blessed we are to have you in our lives and, more importantly, on our side. You took everything we threw at you and you ate it up like it was cotton candy at the state fair.  _

_ We’ll do our best to return more often, it was wrong for us to neglect you like that. That, and your damnable puppy eyes are enough to make the Devil himself feel guilty.  _

_ We left water, chocolate, and ibuprofen by your bed and we cleaned up your wounds. You’re going to need to keep them clean and bandaged. We plugged you up but hey, we’re serial killers. We’re possessive bastards.  _

_ You’re so good to us, and we can’t wait to see you soon.  _

_ Knives and guns-  _

_ Lucifer and Nick. _

 

Sam chuckled and folded up the note. He placed it in the locked drawer in his nightstand and locked it back up, along with the other notes from his lovers. He stretched in his bed, purring as he clenched the plug inside of him. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled, then exhaled. He was going to sleep, and sleep well, dammit. 

His work phone rang and he sighed, picking it up. “Winchester.” 

“Sam, the Ubrimowitz twins have struck again,” Michael said. “Tiny town just outside of Indianapolis, Indiana. I’ll send you copies of the police reports. While you’re at home-” 

“Yeah, I’ll look over the file and see what’s going on there before I come in tomorrow,” Sam chuckled as he rolled over in bed. “I was trying to go back to sleep.” 

“Make sure you drink some orange juice,” Michael said. “Alright. See you tomorrow, Winchester.” 

Sam hung up and silenced his phone. He turned his head and opened his eyes a little bit to seea plain white shirt on the bed next to him that was too small. It smelled like Lucifer and Nick. He rested his head on it and he snuggled closer. 

Sure, maybe his moral compass was fucked beyond repair. But at least he no longer felt guilty about it. 

 

“That one?” Nick asked as they stalked outside of the restaurant they just ate at. 

“Nah, too many people would miss him,” Lucifer said, attacking his chicken nuggets with chopsticks. 

Nick nodded, tapping his thumb along the side of the steering wheel. “Think Michael’s onto us?” 

“He’s only onto us because he feels he has to,” Lucifer said, keeping an eye on the crowd as they looked for their next victim. “He needs answers to questions that he asks for himself.”

“He could never let things go,” Nick snorted. “Not even when we were kids.” 

Lucifer nodded. “There,” he said, pointing to a lonely looking man with long hair and a Stanford hoodie. “Let’s go pay Mr. Stanford a visit.” 

“I’ll do it, you finish eating,” Nick said. He got out of the RV and began heading over to their target. 

Lucifer watched his brother briefly before looking up at a photograph of three boys, two identical to each other and one with a darker hair and sterner expression, with their arms around each other and laughing. “I had nothing to do with our father’s murder, Michael,” he said softly. “I’m a killer, but I would never kill him. Not even after what he did.” 

 

Hundreds of miles away, Michael Milton pulled out a similar photograph, worn and folded from years of hiding. 

“Please tell me the two of you didn’t do it, Luce, Nick,” he said quietly. “Give me some piece of mind. I’m sorry I didn’t listen before. Sadly, Michael Ubrimowitz is dead. He can’t come back.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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